


The Bread Thief

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Italy Unpacked (TV) RPF
Genre: Ficlet, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Suggestiveness, Touching, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 04:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17953418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: A ficlet I started the best part of a year ago, but I didn't fill in the ending. I've now finally finished this cute little piece.Andrew is starving, but doesn't feel he can wait another three hours for Giorgio's dish to be ready. He wants to snack on some ciabatta, but Giorgio thinks it will spoil his appetite, and uses himself as a physical barrier between the bread and his friend."If you don't move," a slight grin was starting to spread across Andrew's face, "then I'll have to take the bread by force.""Provaci, Andrea," came the challenge. Try it.





	The Bread Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Italian phrases beta'd by the wonderful Mcicioni - thank you x
> 
> *~*~*~*
> 
> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

"Don't be like that, man," said Andrew, beginning to feel annoyed.

"No, no, no," Giorgio wagged a finger at him, and then tutted. "You will'a ruin your appetite."

"Three _hours_ before _that's_ ready," the first man replied, pointing towards the simmering pot which was sat in the corner of the kitchen, gently bubbling away to itself.

The Italian pouted and pretended to be sad, before shrugging. "So what?" he smiled.

" _So_ , I'll just about _die_ before _that's_ ready."

Giorgio Locatelli was sat atop the rustic, wooden worktop, his arms spread wide from side to side and his legs swinging below. To further bar Andrew's access to the ciabatta loaf he so desperately wanted to get his hands on, he slid himself off the edge and now stood in front of it, his arms splayed outwards, effectively forming a barrier. He snorted with laughter and replied, in simple terms, "No."

"If you don't move," a slight grin was starting to spread across Andrew's face, "then I'll have to take the bread by _force_."

"Provaci, Andrea," came the challenge. _Try it_.

Graham-Dixon tried to reach over Locatelli's shoulder one way but, as he did, the man slid over to the left, and when he tried to tackle the other, he shifted to the right. He tried again, with greater ambition and zeal, but was caught in the chef's strong arms and pulled close and tight. Giorgio had brought both arms around Andrew and had him in such a bear-hug that it left the historian wondering if his friend had been a wrestler in a former life. Either that, or chopping onions for a living really did do _wonders_ for the biceps. The pair laughed nervously as their bodies bumped together.

"You can'a be very flirtatious when you want to be," Giorgio whispered. He was so close to his colleague now that anything louder than a whisper would have been too much for his ears to take. And a whisper was _all_ that it took to make Andrew blush, unmissable from this distance.

"I, uh, wasn't flirting," he said, in a most serious and professional voice. "I was just trying to reach--"

"And you got 'old of samthing a lot more tasty than bread, didn't you?"

Andrew looked up at him, wide-eyed, and ran a tongue slowly over his lips in thought. He didn't know what to say. What _was_ there to say? Giorgio had him all figured out. "You win," he murmured, bashfully, "I'll _wait_."

"Dere is... probably a lot we can do to make the time go'a... _quicker_ , Andrew," Giorgio winked.


End file.
